


It's A Perfect Day For A Fight

by Idzzdi



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bookstores, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 14:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2695778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idzzdi/pseuds/Idzzdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Must be fate bringing us together then,” Nick muses on, an amused smile on his lips now. Louis growls at him.<br/>“We're not soul mates, if that's what you're thinking,” he tells him seriously and Nick only stares at him for a moment and then lets out a surprised laugh. “This is just Harry playing matchmaker, because you are definitely not the second half of my soul.”</p><p>or; Louis and Nick get matching soul mate marks, but Louis is in denial and Nick is annoyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Perfect Day For A Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Betty Who's 'All Of You'. The entrie song is just Tomlinshaw, and also: perfect.

Louis isn't ashamed to admit that he's a romantic. A _huge_ romantic.

He wants hearts and roses, kisses in the mornings and little silly gifts on Valentine's Day. He can't wait till the day he finally finds his soul mate, because he knows it's all going to be perfect once he finds him. Or her. Louis hopes it's a boy though, he's only ever liked boys so far. He's had relationships too, and they were okay, but nothing more, because none of those boys were his _soul mate_.

When Louis was sixteen he got the mark on his wrist. The unique mark on his left wrist, that constantly changes the closer you get to your soul mate and once you touch forms into the first letter of their name. All of his friends had their marks already and some of them had even met their soul mates already, so Louis was convinced that it would only be a matter of days, maybe weeks until he met his soul mate.

Louis is 22 now and no such thing has happened. And even though he's desperate to just get on with it and finally _finally_ meet him (or her) he doesn't let the waiting get him down and tries to start every day like this is the one where he's going to meet his new partner for the rest of his life.

He lets his friends take him out and he enjoys his time with them even though he has long given up trying to date other people who aren't _the one_ , because it doesn't ever go right. It's not supposed to go right.

His best friend and flat mate Harry thinks he's a right idiot for waiting. “What if they live in like Africa or summat,” he keeps saying, but Louis only shakes his head. His mark is changing way too much for that. Sometimes it gets all twisty and then straight again when Louis is on his way to work or driving across town, and Louis _knows_ he's (or she's) close and it can't be much longer.

When Harry gets a promotion on his job he invites Louis and the lads out for some drinks with his new coworkers and also his boss, which thinks it weird as fuck. Never in a million years would he voluntarily go out drinking with the sleazy old man who owns the tiny bookshop that Louis basically runs for him. It's a cliche in the making.

Before Louis leaves to meet the lads at a pub down town he double checks his outfit in the mirror in the backroom of the store, straightening out the collar of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves a bit, to give his work attire a more casual look. He dully notes that the mark on his wrist has changed again for about the fifth time today and Louis frowns at it, wonders if maybe his soul mate had come in today or walked by the store. Louis would hate himself for missing them.

When he gets to the pub he is soaked from the rain, majorly pissed and has completely forgotten about his stupid mark acting out. Upon entering he looks around the little pub Harry chose for them to meet and spots his friend right away. Harry is grinning at him and waving him over, looking pleased and red around the cheeks like he's alright had a beer or two.

“Hey lads,” he greets with a sigh, letting Harry wrap him up in a tight hug.

“Lou, you got in the rain?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies uselessly, peeling out of his wet jacket and giving it to Harry to take care of it while he greets Zayn and Liam, who both brought their soul mates along and Niall, sitting next to them chatting away with somebody further down the table. The other people Louis doesn't know and he assumes that they must be Harry's new coworkers.

“Sophia, Perrie,” he greets the girls with nods as he pushes further down the table to greet the others, trying not to stare too long at the way Zayn's and Parrie's matching 'P' and 'Z' line up perfectly as they hold hands across the table.

Louis shakes hands with all of the other guests, introducing himself and forgetting all of their names again instantly. He smiles at them brightly until Harry calls him back to the other end of the table, pulls out a chair for him, but drags him towards the bar before Louis can even sit down.

“You need a pint, my friend,” Harry says, maybe slurs, but Louis only grins and nods. Tonight could still turn out to be a good night.

They order their beers and wait for a moment, Harry graciously offering to pay the first round.

“I got promoted, remember? Making big bucks now. Bet now you regret never giving it a go with this fine lad. What's up with your wrist?” Harry rushes out, way too fast for his slow drawl and his drunken mind and Louis looks up at him in surprise.

“'s nothing,” he mumbles, letting go of his wrist where he'd been scratching it absentmindedly. “Been acting out all day, dunno.”

“Haha, funny. Grimmy's been saying the same thing earlier. Ey, when'd you get your letter? You arse tit didn't even tell me, best friend my ass you-” Harry rambles on, but Louis isn't listening anymore, pulling his wrist out of Harry's tight grip and staring at the mark on his wrist with wide eyes. It looks nothing like it ever has before, it looks like.. like a letter. An _N_.

Louis is staring at the mark and staring and staring and doesn't even realize that Harry's still babbling on in the background. He's been waiting for this moment all his life and tonight he just planned on having a nice night with a couple of friends. And now _this_. _Now_.

With bleary eyes Louis looks up and around the pub. He's probably touched just about everybody in here on accident. It's packed and people are drunk and stumbling, moving around constantly. It could be _anybody_. It could be somebody on the street he accidentally touched in passing while walking here.

Louis always thought he would _know_. He thought when he met his soul mate he would know and they would know and everything would just fall into place, like the world spinning the other way around suddenly. But it's nothing like that and Louis is mostly just confused staring at Harry blearily as his best friends beams at him and shakes his shoulders.

“This is so exciting Lou! Do you know who it is? Did you feel something?” he rushes out questions and Louis only shrugs, shaking his head a little. Their beers have been sitting on the bar for a while and the foam is going down a bit, but Harry only grabs the two pints and pushes Louis back towards their table.

“'s okay, Lou,” Harry encourages, urging him forwards. “I'm gonna talk to the barman, we're gonna make an announcement, somebody in here _must_ 've just gotten their letter as well and it's gonna be a 'L', don't worry about it. _Hey, Lou just got his letter!_ ” He yells the last part once he gets into hearing range of their table and all of their heads turn, Niall and Liam jumping off their seats first.

“Who is it? Who is it?” they keep asking, looking around excitedly, creating quite the commotion. “They should come over, sit with us. We wanna met them!” Niall rants on as Louis takes his seat, drinking a long sip from the beer Harry set down in front of him. His left wrist is laying mark up on the middle of their table and the boys and all bent over it, staring at it, like it's gonna change again. It's not though, not ever again.

Louis is feeling a bit melancholic and nothing like he thought he would meeting his soul mate.

“What's his letter?” somebody calls from the other end of the table and Louis instantly feels bad for involving Harry's coworkers in this happening. It was supposed to be Harry's night, a few beers with friends and now Louis is suddenly the center of attention.

“An _N_ ,” Sophia tells them and anything that follows is drowned out by loud shrieks coming from that end of the table.

“Oh my God,” a man says through the girls' laughing and yelling.

“Nick just got his, he's got an L, I'm going to faint,” one of the girls says and well. Suddenly Louis is paying attention. Through the commotion happening around him he catches the eyes of a man sitting at the far end of the table, staring back at him in surprise. Louis studies his face and the tall messy quiff of hair, the large hands gripping the beer in front of him tightly. The man – _Nick_ , apparently – gives Louis a tentative smile, careful but genuine as he sits up a little straighter.

Louis looks at him one last time before averting his eyes. He stares at his hands and blinks hard and.. well, Nick is surely good looking and seems like a nice guy. But it's not him. Louis knows.

Harry is laughing excitedly beside him, running his fingers over the mark on Louis' wrist.

“It's not him,” Louis mumbles towards Harry, trying to breath through the excitement and loudness around him. The air has gotten thick.

“What?” Harry mumbles back, a little confused and still a lot content.

“It's not him,” Louis repeats, pushing out of his seat. “I need to get out,” he mutters, almost falling over his feet as he stumbles towards the door.

“Erm, we're gonna need a moment here,” he hears Harry apologize them behind him as he reaches the door and Harry is right beside him.

Louis takes a couple of deep breaths, sagging down against the wall of the pub between two windows, a few feet down from the door.

“What's wrong, Lou?” Harry asks softly after a moment, suddenly sounding sober and calm. It's incredibly soothing seeing Harry this collected and everything but panicked.

“It's not him,” Louis repeats for what feels like the tenth time.

“What do you mean ' _It's not him_ '?” Harry wonders, looking confused with his eyes shifting from Louis to the window through which he can see the insides of the pub and then back to Louis. “Did you not touch or anything?”

“Yeah, no, we shook hands, but- It's just not him,” Louis tries to explain, crossing and uncrossing his arms helplessly.

“Well,” Harry drawls slowly, looking more and more confused. “But, um. That would be a bit of a coincidence, don't you think?” he asks carefully and Louis only shrugs.

“Is there any particular reason you think it's not him? He might not be the model type, but he's not bad looking yeah? And he's pretty friendly and, you know, funny and all, I'm sure you two would-”

“I just didn't feel anything,” Louis interrupts Harry's rant. He can't listen to this sales pitch Harry pulling off any longer. “I mean we shook hands and all and I didn't even realize. I thought like..” he trails off and shrugs, looking back up at Harry.

“You know those ' _The world stopped spinning when I met my soul mate_ '-stories are only _stories_ , right?” Harry says then, slowly still, like he doesn't quite know how to deal with this situation. Which is sad, because Harry is Louis' best friend and if Harry doesn't know how to deal with this, how to deal with Louis in this situation, then there's probably no one who does.

“Of course,” Louis rasps, ignoring the romantic streak in his body that's trying to protest. “I just thought.. _something_ , you know. Anything. I thought I'd somehow know when I met him.”

“You thought it was gonna be just like all those stories,” Harry says, but it's not an accusation, just a realization. Louis looks up at him and tries to glare, but he's emotionally unstable right now so it doesn't come off as mean as he wants it to.

They are quiet for a while and Louis just takes in deep breaths of fresh air, trying to clear his head. After a couple of breaths Harry wraps him up in a tight hug, pressing him close for a few long seconds.

“You should go in there,” he says then, still holding Louis close. “Just chat with him, he's a good guy. And tell him to treat you right, or else I'll quit,” he finishes with a wide grin and a soft squeeze of Louis' shoulder. But Louis cannot go in there right now.

“Actually, um,” he starts, pulling out of Harry's embrace completely, taking two steps back. “I best be going. Lots of stuff at home, to you know, do and well..” he trails off, his brain too fucked up right now to come up with reasonable excuses. Not that Harry couldn't see through them right away.

“Don't run, Lou,” Harry says with a sad frown on his face, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “He's your soul mate, for god's sake.”

“I'm sorry,” Louis mumbles in reply, squeezing Harry's elbow shortly. “Bring home my jacket for me, yeah?” he adds, but turns around without waiting for a reply to flee down the road to the next bus stop as fast as he can. It should feel a lot more embarrassing than it does, but Louis' brain is too occupied with everything else going on and _fuck_ he just met his soul mate. And he ran.

 

~

 

When Louis wakes up the next morning the first thing he thinks is _what a fucking weird dream_. And the day after that. And the day after that. Actually it goes on for a week and Louis still can't quite grasp that he met his soul mate. And that it's _Nick_.

Nick Something, who is on the radio all the time and Harry absolutely adores him, finds him even funnier than Louis and well. Louis is sure the universe fucked up big time on matching him and Nick together. He positively loathes him.

Harry doesn't understand at all what Louis' problem is. He keeps talking about Nick like he's the second coming of Christ and him and Louis a match made in heaven (“Seriously, Lou, you and him you would be _perfect_. You have the same sense of humor and you're both stubborn and a bit stupid.”).

Louis is not convinced at all.

But his guard is slipping up apparently, because really looking back he should have seen that “Come pick me up from work, yes?” was a little too coyly played, even for Harry. Unfortunately Louis is dead tired when Harry asks him and so he nods and falls back asleep immediately.

Now it's 2:30 in the afternoon and Louis is stood next to his car in front of the BBC building, watching the front entrance idly. Harry is running late by a few minutes and Louis is tapping his foot nervously. His wrist is itchy and it really shouldn't be, because he already met Nick. Logically he _knows_ that Nick is probably somewhere in that building, but he tries to ignore it as best as he can without scratching his own skin bloody.

After a few more minutes Harry comes stumbling out of the building, a big folder in his arms and- _Of fucking course_ , Louis thinks. Nick is with him, looking forcefully at ease. It's a weird look on him, but it probably would be on anybody.

Louis leans back against the car, propping up one foot against the tires and trying to pull off and effortlessly cool look, though he probably ends up looking as pained as Nick does. Okay, so this is a little awkward maybe. Definitely.

“Hey Lou,” Harry greets cheerfully as they get within hearing range, wiggling his fingers hello around the heavy folder.

“Hi,” Louis gulps out, pointedly not looking at Nick. “You almost ready?”

“Sure,” Harry replies easily, obviously choosing to ignore the tension between them. Or maybe not, because next thing Louis knows, Harry is faking a very unconvincing ' _oh_ '-look on his face. “Dammit, I forgot my wallet up in the office, be right back,” he says enthusiastically and dumps the huge folder into Nick's arms before leaving them.

“Harry-” Nick calls after him halfheartedly, but the other boy doesn't even turn of course, just sprints towards the main entrance and disappears inside. When Nick turns back around he has a slightly embarrassed grin on his face.

“Well,” he starts and Louis only rolls his eyes.

“Were you in on this?” he asks, looking anywhere except Nick's face.

“Yes, of course. I was completely eager to get into yet another situation where you can give me a dead cold stare and then run away. Sounds just like how I want to spend my afternoon.”

Louis doesn't need to look at him to know that he's being 100% sarcastic, but he does anyway, just to be granted with the majorly unimpressed look on Nick's face.

“Were _you_ in on this?” Nick inquires then and Louis hates how Nick's teasing is getting under his skin. He doesn't grant Nick with an answer, just sighs loudly, taking a long and obvious look at his watch.

“Must be fate bringing us together then,” Nick muses on, an amused smile on his lips now. Louis growls at him.

“We're not soul mates, if that's what you're thinking,” he tells him seriously and Nick only stares at him for a moment and then lets out a surprised laugh. “This is just Harry playing matchmaker, because you are _definitely_ not the second half of my soul.”

“No, god, no,” Nick laughs, his eyes big and sparkly. “I wouldn't want half of my soul to be _this_ ,” he says as he motions up and down Louis' body.

Louis can't _believe_ him. He is such a fucking twat moron cunt shit.

“That's it, I'm waiting in the car,” he snaps after two seconds of pure silence and then rounds the car to climb into the driver seat, ignoring Nick's laugh behind him. What in the world did he do wrong in a past life of his to have deserved _this_? He sure hopes it was well worth it, because the five minutes it takes before Harry returns are probably the worst of his life. He blankly stares at the windshield, but from the corner of his eyes he can see Nick shoot him multiple amused looks. He and Harry chat for a short while once Harry gets to the car and then they say goodbye.

When Harry climbs into the car, closing the door and buckling up sheepishly, Louis is about ready to explode.

“You think that was funny?” he asks, trying to sound less furious than he feels. He's _not_ going to be a child about this. He's not.

“Nick thought it was,” Harry gives back and at least has the decency to look a little uncomfortable.

“Nick is a fucking ass twat cunt shit and I don't give a flying fuck about what he finds amusing or not,” Louis spits out, gripping the stirring wheel tightly as he drives. He probably should be driving this fast. Or at all.

Nick is just such a fuck fuck.

 _Fuck Fuck_.

“Come on, Lou. He's your soul mate, you can't avoid him forever.”

“Not if you try to keep sneaking in ' _accidental_ ' meetings,” he says, trying to ignore the uneasy look in Harry's eyes as he takes his hands off the stirring wheel to show off air quotes. “And he's _not_ my soul mate.”

“Yeah, he mentioned you said that,” Harry says, sounding mildly amused.

“Well, he needs to get in his brain. And so do you.”

“You sure talk about him an awful lot about him,” Harry says thoughtfully. “I bet you think about him even more.”

“I absolutely do not,” Louis disagrees vehemently, and Harry doesn't need to know that Nick is the first thing Louis thinks about every morning since they met.

 

~

 

Louis is pretty sure he is just never going to see Nick again and that's fine. It's not until the third day after the fiasco in front of the BBC buildings that Louis realizes his wrist is more itchy than usual. It used to only itchy when his mark got particularly twisty, but since the mark doesn't change anymore Louis is getting slightly worried when he wakes up one Thursday morning with the mark burning painfully.

He gets through his morning routine with gritted teeth and stops at the sink for a long moment to let cold water run over his arm and down to the wrist to sooth the pain a bit. It helps, but fades soon again and he can feel the pain tingling in his finger tips.

“What's up with you?” Harry asks him suspiciously when Louis sets down his mug of tea for the second time to wriggle his hand around helplessly.

“Nothing,” Louis mumbles in frustration, letting his tea rest to use the sink in the kitchen to cool his wrist again.

“Is it itchy?” Harry asks, sounding concerned. “You already got your mark, it's not supposed to itch,” he continues, like Louis doesn't know.

“It's fine,” Louis tells him with a roll of his eyes. It's just a little itch, nothing to worry about. It'll go away soon.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Or maybe not, Louis thinks, when it's a week later and his wrist is on fucking _fire_. He's at work, grinding his teeth in pain and gripping the counter with his right hand. His left hand he's holding up in the air for no particular reason at all, it just seems to hurt a little less. Right now there's no one at the store luckily, but Louis is supposed to unwrap a new load of books. He's certain he's not going to get to finish that today though, because his wrist fucking hurts and he hasn't thought about anything else in the past twenty minutes.

He decidedly does _not_ think about Nick. Like, ever.

When he googled what was up with his itching and burning wrist all comments he found were from people physically separated from their soul mate, because they were in war or on a long trip or something, missing them horribly. Louis would all but miss Nick if he went to war, so that's obviously not it.

Not that Louis has by now accepted that Nick of all people is actually his soul mate or anything. He's just giving him the benefit of the doubt for the time being. And he certainly wouldn't mind spending said time as far away from Nick as possible, but his wrist is painful enough to give him a headache from the stress for his body, and well.. It would be great if the pain could just go away. Leave. And never come back.

It's another hour later, the box with new books still mostly untouched, when Louis is just helping out two girls to find the correct books for the literature course at uni that the pain slowly starts to numb. Slowly at first, just a little bit, until it's mostly bearable and Louis can give the girls an honest grin as he rings up their items and bids them farewell.

It gets a lot better after that, so much in fact that Louis starts wondering again if that's normal at all. Twenty minutes later the only feeling that's left in his arm is a dull throbbing, but his entire arm feels sore, like he's been working out.

Louis looks down his arm at his hand, curling and uncurling his fist with a tingling feeling in his fingertips as the door of the store opens again. He glances down at his hand for a moment longer before raising his head to greet the new customer.

“Hey,” Nick says carefully after a long pause, still standing right beside the door like he's prepared to turn on his heel and leave again. The way his face twists up uncomfortably Louis thinks he must be considering it.

It takes Louis a while to register the endless silence that stretches on and Nick is giving him an expectant look, rocking back and forth on his heels a bit.

“Um,” Louis starts eloquently, clearing his throat. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Assorted short stories of Charles Dickens,” Nick says right away, half a grin on his face. Louis only blinks at him.

“Really?” he asks, already scanning through the sort of catalog in his head, trying to think of works of Dickens they have in the store.

“Um.” Nick looks a little hesitant. “No, I, eh,” he laughs. “Just an ice breaker, I guess.”

He chuckles again, wringing his hands together, his left hand clasped around his right wrist. Louis only stares at him for a long moment.

“What _do_ you want then?” he finally asks, frowning at Nick as the silence between them only stretches on.

“Eh,” Nick starts seemingly uncomfortable, scratching the back of his neck with his hand. “Harry said you've been having a bit of trouble with your mark,” he says finally, giving Louis a shrug and an impassive look.

“Did he know?” Louis asks, tone as neutral as Nick's, unconsciously lowering his hand behind the counter. It's none of _Nick's_ business what _Louis_ ' mark is up to.

“Can I see?” Nick asks then, taking a few steps towards the counter. Louis has to will himself into not stepping back from Nick, meeting his gaze with equal disinterest.

“Why?”

“Can I just see?” Nick asks again, holding out his hand with his palm up, like he expects Louis to lay his wrist onto it. “ _Please_.”

Louis huffs and raises his eyebrows slowly before giving Nick a pointed eye roll and stretching out his arm.

“Marvel, peasant,” Louis says gloriously as Nick moves a little closer to look at the mark on Louis' wrist. It looks normal, like it always does.. well, not _always_ always, but since Louis got his letter anyway.

Nick slowly raises his hand to touch the skin next to Louis' mark and suddenly Louis can feel the tingling in his fingertips again. It's not unpleasant just unexpected. It distracts him enough to miss Nick getting closer and closer until his fingers are pressed onto the skin of Louis' mark. With sudden violence the tingling strikes through Louis' entire body and he pulls his hand back immediately, cradling his wrist to his chest with his right hand.

It takes him longer than he likes to admit to school his features into something the resembles nonchalance rather than shock and surprise. Nick isn't doing much better though, his hand still extended halfway over the counter where he had touched Louis. He's biting his lip, his eyes wide and knowing.

Louis would like to know what Nick apparently does know, but nothing in the world will get his to ask. Not _Nick_.

“What do you _want_?” Louis growls after a moment, his brains finally back in order and his left wrist tucked behind his back. Nick looks bemused at Louis' defensive posture, grinning lowly as he tucks his own hands into his coat pockets.

“I'll just have a look around, alright?” he asks and turns without waiting for Louis' reply. He struts down one of the long isles, letting his index finger run along the spines of the books as he walks.

Louis lets out a huff of air when Nick is out of sight, resting his back against the wall behind the counter as the pushes his hands up in his hair. _Stressful_ , that's what Nick is. A right hassle.

Absentmindedly Louis rubs his wrist again, where the tingling sensation is still burning into his skin, but lighter than before, at a lower temperature, that's what it feels like. He isn't even going to start thinking about whatever weird thing happened when Nick touched his mark.

 _Just a coincidence_. Certainly.

Louis tries to shake it off as good as he can, willing himself to think about other things, like the box full of books that's waiting to get unpacked. Right, Louis should probably get to that. His boss had asked him to finished it yesterday, but well.. burning wrists got in the way of it. Burning wrists got in the way of a lot of things recently, so it's nice to have the pain reduced to a rather pleasant warm buzz now. Louis can work with that.

He goes to find the box at the back of the store, starting to take several collections of books out and unwrapping them, sorting them and putting them into piles of manageable size to fit into the shelves later on. He works in silence for twenty minutes before the peaceful quiet starts to seem a little daunting. Nick never left, did he? He would have said at least a quick goodbye, right? And anyways, Louis didn't hear the door open or fall shut at all..

Under the pretense of sorting books back into their appropriate places in the shelves Louis grabs a random pile of books and starts passing down various isle of book shelves in search of Nick. It's mostly silent in the store, except for the music playing lowly in the background. The carpet floors make it easier to move around quietly, the sounds of Louis' steps swallowed soundly.

Louis weaves through a few rows before he finds Nick. He's near the window front of the store, where they have a few armchairs and sofas, to lounge and read. It's not the latest fashion or finest leather, but Louis loves it. It's cozy and perfect for reading or simply watching the people pass outside.

Nick does just that, sunken into one of their plushiest blue velvet armchairs, his coat shoved off his shoulder a bit, because it's warm inside, his hair poking into different directions, like he's been running his hands through it. He looks a bit like Louis feels.

Mostly that thought is confirmed when Nick holds up his wrist and tugs down the sleeve of his coat to rub over his mark. It's on his right arm. Louis has his on his left, so their marks would line up when holding hands. It's supposed to be like that, Louis read somewhere. There has never been a soul mate pair with tattoos on the same arm. It doesn't however prove that Nick is his soul mate, there are plenty of people with their mark on their right arm, Louis is sure.

Nick lets his thumb run over the mark, looking at it with big eyes. He then lets his arms drop onto the armrests, his head tilting back, letting out a long sigh. He looks painfully exhausted.

Louis sneaks back to the back of the store, setting down the books he had been carrying around with him uselessly. He point blank refuses to spend any more time thinking about Nick, who apparently has nothing better to do then lounge around in tiny book stores, when there is actual work to be done.

Two hours later Louis is ready to close up, packing away the last few random items on the counter and stowing away the cash register for the night. Nick hasn't made another sound in the time that passed and when Louis goes to fetch him he finds out why. Curled into the side of the armchair is Nick, his neck tucked into the velvet at an angel that can't be comfortable.

“You shouldn't be _sleeping_ in a book store,” Louis scolds loudly, smacking his hands together.

“Jesus Christ,” Nick mutters as he startles awake, blinking at Louis in mild confusion. “Oh. Oh, sorry, I..” he trails off aimlessly, pushing out of the armchair quickly. “I just..” he continues, tugging his coat up his arms onto his shoulders.

“We're closing, let's go,” Louis says to spare Nick any more awkward excuses.

 

~

 

“For the love of god, _please_ _Harry_ , stop trying to sneakily set me and Nick up,” Louis says as he steps into the kitchen, his shoes and coat still on.

“Dinner's almost ready,” is all Harry says in reply, giving him a warm smile.

“You're lucky you're cute,” Louis mumbles as he trudges back into the hallway, hanging up his coat and toeing off his shoes before sitting down at their sad little excuse of a dinner table. Harry comes in a moment later and sets down a plate of steaming food in front of him. So Harry might either be the best or the worst flatmate ever, Louis can't decide.

When he tells Harry so, he gets a blinding smile in return.

“The best, certainly,” Harry nods around a mouth full of food. “How's your wrist?”

Louis frowns at him. “Okay, why?”

“It's been burning, yeah?” Harry asks and Louis only stares at him. “So I did a bit of research and I healed you.”

“God Harry, what did you _do_?”

“Well,” Harry drawls, grinning proudly. “I looked up your symptoms on google and-”

Louis groans loudly and effectively shuts Harry up.

“What's the first internet rule, Harry?” Louis asks, like he's talking to a child.

“Never tell anyone your real name?” Harry asks confusedly, and okay. Maybe they have more than one first internet rules.

“The _other_ first rule?” Louis prompts and Harry gives him a slight frown.

“Google is not your doctor?”

“Yes! Exactly!”

“Well, I know, but I was just checking,” Harry explains with a reasonable look on his face, like anything of what he says makes sense. “So anyway, I was looking up what a burning mark could mean, because, you know. You've been in a lot of pain. And, well.. I know Grimmy's been having trouble, too, so. It said that the burning feeling can come from being physically apart, so I told Nick to stop by the store after his shift. Worked brilliantly, didn't it?”

Harry looks so proud of himself that Louis can't help but fondly grin at him.

“Brilliantly,” he agrees, even if it's sarcastic, Harry beams at him. “He got there, spoke two words with me and fell asleep in an armchair. Uncultured beast he is!”

“Well, sometimes it's not all about the words, but simply about being together,” Harry says rather dreamily and Louis can't help but laugh.

“When did you become the helplessly romantic in this household?” he teases, kicking Harry's shin underneath the table.

“Since your heart has turned to stone apparently,” Harry snaps back, looking mildly offended. “Servers your right having Nick as your soul mate,” he babbles on, but Louis ignores him.

 

~

 

Louis is great, _spectacular_ even at ignoring problems. That is, if his problems aren't waking him up at the ass crack of dawn, because his skin feels like it's on fire. It's not a pleasant feeling, not at all.

He tries turning over and falling back asleep, but after twenty minutes of restless shifting he gives up on it and heads to take a shower instead. He turns the water on, a lot colder than he usually likes it, but he thinks he might be sporting a fever or something, and the cold water is soothing the burn amazingly.

It takes him a while to fully wake up, still standing in the shower with cold water running down his body, the burn dulled down to where it's almost bearable. When he gets his brains back in order he realizes that he's not feeling sick at all, it's just the burning sensation. Coming from his wrist.

 _Ugh_.

Louis would really to ignore this. He really, really would. But it just stole him one and a half hours of sleep, so basically anything is fair game now.

After he gets out of the shower, he idly chats with Harry in the kitchen, avoiding all of Harry's questions about why on earth he's up any earlier than he absolutely needs to be.

“Is it your wrist again?” Harry asks as he's making tea for the two of them, reaching out for Louis' arm carefully.

“It's not,” Louis mutters, tucking his left hand behind his back to where Harry can't see or touch it. “Not everything's always about the _stupid_ _mark_ ,” he spits, a lot more forceful than he means to and Harry gives him a sad look. Louis feels guilty immediately, but he can't help being this angry, when he just stepped out of the shower ten minutes ago and his wrist is burning unbearably again already.

It only gets worse during the day and by noon Louis feels like he's going to faint from the pain. And while he told himself all morning that he is above calling Harry to get him to talk to Nick about this, he is just about to change his mind. His fingertips are tingling painfully as he clenches and unclenches his fist and when he finally talks himself into texting Harry, he knows he basically made this decisions this morning already. He just had to sit through the pain, didn't he?

On their computer program with the catalog of all the books they have in store Louis types in ' _Charles Dickens_ ', hits enter and then takes a pictures of the screen and sends it to Harry. Louis shouldn't be as surprised or mad as he is when all he gets in return are a bunch of question marks.

' _nick was asking about dickens books_ ' he texts back with a roll of his eyes. He's almost positive that Harry has such an unhealthy work relationship with Nick that they are most certainly talking about Louis possibly/maybe/definitely being Nick's soul mate more often than not. It's fucking weird, seeing as Nick is Harry's boss and they're pretty much friends. Louis on the other hand doesn't even know his boss' first name.

Harry texts back soon after, saying ' _so shall I just tell nick u miss him horribly nd want him to com over??_ ' and Louis can almost hear Harry's slow drawl and lazy smirk. Louis cannot _believe_ him.

' _thats not even remotely close to what i said._ ' he texts with a frown on his face.

' _yes it is, telling him now_ ' is Harry's reply instantly and Louis texts back a lot of strong worded texts and angry looking emojis, but Harry doesn't reply to any of them. He's a horrible, horrible flat mate and an even worse best friend.

Unnerving thoughts and the fact that Harry just doesn't text back at all anymore are enough to keep Louis distracted from the throbbing pain in his wrist. And also from the fact that almost an hour later the pain slowly starts to dull until it's not more than an almost pleasant tingling. He only realizes it in exactly the same moment that the front door swings open and Nicks steps in, a slow grin on his face.

“What do you want?” Louis snaps almost immediately and Nick's grin only widens.

“'s that how you greet all your customers, doll?” he drawls and Louis is about ready to bloody murder him.

“Only you, _darling_ ,” he says back, sugary sweet with a forced smile.

“Oh is that so?” Nick says, still amused. He takes a few steps forward, unbuttons his jacket and leans against the counter Louis is stood behind with his hip. “'s not what I heard.”

Louis glares at him long and hard, because Harry is a fucking idiot and so is Nick, but somehow he got stuck with both of them in his life. It's beyond annoying.

Nick still only smiles at him, eyebrows raised expectantly. Louis rolls his eyes at him.

“ _Fine_ , what is it that you heard, then?” he says, making a big show of playing along and acting all surprised.

“Hm,” Nick muses, leaning a bit closer. “I heard there was a list of collected Charles Dickens works waiting for me?”

Louis looks at him a bit dumbfoundly for a moment, taking a few seconds longer than he'd like to school his features back into something bored and impassive. The way Nick lips quirk up even more Louis is afraid that exact train of thoughts might have been displayed on his face. Whatever.

“I mean, we have those books, if you want me to get them for you,” Louis mumbles, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under Nick's gaze. Somehow this isn't quite working out the way Louis had pictured it.

Nick still looks largely amused, like there's some big joke Louis just doesn't get. It might be his life that's the big joke or him possibly/maybe/most definitely being soul mates with Nick, because he certainly doesn't get that. But Nick only smirks on, shoves his big hands in the pocket of his jacket and shrugs.

“Sure, lemme have a look, yeah?” he says, like the books are the last thing he cares about. Louis gives him a curious look for a moment, but leads him down a long row of shelves soon after, picking out seven books and loading them into Nick's arm.

“That's all we've got,” he says, propping his hands up his hips while Nick struggles with the weight of the books.

“Yeah, I'm not sure those are gonna be enough, actually,” Nick says completely serious. Louis lets out a sharp involuntarily laugh before biting his lip, putting back on a serious face. Nick looks pleased and a little proud maybe.

“Ehm, yes,” Louis concludes awkwardly, motioning between the books and Nick. “Eh, take your time and, you know, let me know if you wanna buy any of them, just..” he trails off and rolls his eyes at himself, because what? It's stupid, _stupid_ Nick and Louis is fumbling with his words like he's sixteen years old and on a date or something. He's probably best off just walking away. So he leaves Nick somewhere between the bookshelves before returning back to the front counter. There are certainly a lot of very, very important things that need to be done. Right now.

So Louis busies himself with none sense, taking a long moment to enjoy that his wrist almost feels normal. The mark is deep black, but pale around the edges, not red and angry like it used to be the past couple of days. Things could stay like this, he recons. Nick could come in and just be quiet somewhere else, so Louis doesn't have to deal with him, but still gets the nice side effect of feeling somewhat normal. It's easier to ignore the somewhat happy tingling feeling than the harsh burn there usually is.

Louis works in silence and stays clear of the reading area, where he saw Nick situating himself with the load of books in the same armchair he was sat in last time. It's a slow Wednesday afternoon and barely any customers come in, tending to the outsides rather than a book store on a rather lovely November day. Louis doesn't mind though, likes being alone with the books. Well, and Nick. But he can be pleasantly quiet apparently.

After almost an hour boredom and curiosity get the better of Louis and he creeps towards the reading lounge, approaching it from behind Nick's armchair.

Nick has one of the books in his lap, his head propped up on one of his arms, head tiled towards, fixed on the page.

“If you're gonna read the entire book, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to charge you those 17 pounds,” Louis says loudly, busing his hands with taking random books from their shelves and putting them back into their exact same spots. Nick jumps at Louis' voice, turning around in the chair and running a hand down his face before staring at Louis wide eyed.

“What?” he mumbles, sounding slow and tired.

“I said if you want to read the book, you have to buy it. This a book store, not a library,” Louis explains slowly, like talking to a child, but Nick blinks at him some more. “Wait, were you asleep?”

“Um.”

“God, what's wrong with you?” Louis asks, half offend, half amused, stowing the last book back into the shelf and turning to completely face Nick. When he doesn't get a response immediately, Louis only raises his eyebrows at Nick, tilting his head in expectation.

“Um,” Nick starts again, scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I'm sorry, 'm just really tired. Haven't been sleeping, you know,” he adds slowly and Louis has a feeling Nick and Harry talk way too much about this thing. This _NickandLouis_ thing.

“No, I don't know,” Louis snaps, pursing his lips. “Go to bed early, old man.”

Nick laughs at that, running a hand through his hair and using his free hand to set down the book from his lap onto a nearby coffee table.

“You wanna come by sometime and check on my bedtime?” he asks, slowly pushing out of his chair.

“You wish,” Louis says back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. It takes all of his willpower not to step back when Nick gets closer, looming over him. They're both leaning against the book shelf, Nick's hands stuffed in his pockets, grinning lazily.

“Maybe I do,” he says, sounding genuine enough to make Louis step away from him. He's not overly proud of how fast he walks around Nick, bending down to pick up the book Nick was (or wasn't) reading a moment ago.

“I'll ring this up for you then, shall I?” he asks, holding up the book and struts towards the cash register before Nick can even say anything in reply. Louis can hear him laughing though as he rounds the counter and scans the item.

 

~

 

“So where's your favorite soul mate then?” Niall yells over the loud music playing around them, his words already a bit slurred. The drink in the red plastic cup in his hand is sloshing over as Niall sways.

“Don't know who you're talking about,” Louis says back, shouldering past Niall to get into the kitchen to make himself a drink. They're at a house party of some friend of Harry's and from the looks of it Niall has been there quiet a while already, but Louis and Harry only just got there. It's loud and full even though it's just past eleven and Louis has the feeling it's a great night to get plastered. So he doesn't give the beers in the fridge a second glance and heads straight to the good stuff.

“You still on about that?” Niall asks with a laugh as he stumbles after Louis. “I thought you were in love now or some shit?”

Louis gives him an alarmed look, raising his eyebrows high, taking a long sip of his rum and coke.

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, Harry said-” Niall starts, but stops abruptly when Louis snorts loudly, rolling his eyes.

“Harry said what?” Harry cuts in from behind Louis, plopping open a beer and looking at them expectantly.

“Harry is _delusional_ about my non-existent relationship with Nick,” Louis says easily, tipping his head back and finishing his drink, immediately turning back towards the table to fix a new one.

“He's such a child,” Harry mutters to Niall with a cruel hand gesture towards Louis, which he can only see from the corner of his eyes. “His mark is, like, _burning up_ all the fucking time and he can't _sleep_ , but he won't admit that it all goes away as soon as he sees Nick.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Louis says as he turns back around, giving Harry an unimpressed look, but the effect is lost when Louis hisses in pain as Harry presses a finger onto his wrist. Niall raises his eyebrows at them and Louis finishes his next drink.

“Jesus, Lou, slow down, will you?” Harry mumbles as Louis turns around to fix yet another drink. “Contrary to popular believe, you _can't_ drink away your pain.”

“But I can try,” Louis shoots back, filling the cup to the brim and then weaseling past his friends to find people who don't talk about stupid, stupid Nick.

So Louis goes to enjoy himself, chats with loads of new people and drinks a lot. His wrist is still itching like crazy and it's quite hard to scratch it while holding his drink, but when people ask about his mark he tells them a long drawn story about how his soul mate is at war, and he at home, heart broken, which totally makes it worth.

About an hour later he runs back into Harry in the kitchen, both of them refilling their drinks. Harry is still on beer, but Louis has worked his way up to long island ice tea.

“This is the greatest night ever,” Louis tells Harry happily and gets a huge smile in return. “I'm telling people Nick is at war; it's hilarious,” he adds laughingly and Harry's face visibly changes. He goes from happy and lighthearted to annoyed in half a second, rolling his eyes at Louis.

“This is it, seriously,” Harry mutters angrily. “I'm calling Grimmy.”

Louis is sure that this part of their conversation could somehow be relevant to him, but somebody totally just brought out blueberry vodka shots and certainly nothing could be more important then that, right?

Right.

So Louis does blueberry vodka shots and some other shots that are a scary shade of green, but they're are delicious anyway, so who cares what they are? Louis certainly doesn't. He goes to dance some more and then chat with some people and then dance again, and he swears it's only been like five minutes, but suddenly Nick is stood in front of him.

“What do you want?” he snarls, and he sounds very manly and mean. At least in his head he does.

“Is that your default greeting, pumpkin?” Nick asks, coming closer and leaning towards Louis.

“Only for you, _sugar_ ,” Louis replies, ready to turn and leave but somehow his back is against a wall and Nick is suddenly looming over him, leaning in closer then necessary.

“You keep saying that,” Nick drawls, resting one of hands against the wall next to Louis' head. “Makes it sound like you've been missing me.”

“Oh _please._ ” Louis rolls his eyes and moves his hand around in a dismissive gestures, forgetting about the cup in his hand, spilling most of his drink onto Nick's shoes.

“Oops,” Louis says, looking down at Nick shoes. He is almost feeling a bit sorry, because those are really nice shoes and he's a bit scared Nick is going to get properly angry at him, but when he looks up the older man only raises his eyebrows in a challenging way.

“If you weren't as pissed I'd assume you did this on purpose,” he says easily, shaking his foot a bit uncoordinatedly without much of an effect.

“I would never,” Louis drawls, batting his eyelashes cheekily at Nick. It appears to be taking both of them by surprise.

“Are you _flirting_ with me, Louis?” Nick asks, grinning widely, trying to fake a shocked facial expression.

“I would _never_ ,” Louis repeats, icy cold before shouldering past Nick.

“Oh come on, pumpkin,” Nick calls after him. “I was just playing!”

Louis does a great job at avoiding both Nick and Harry after that, which isn't as easy as he thought it would be, because apparently they both do have friends beside each other and are not stuck together, like Louis had hoped they would be. But he manages anyway, stocking up on two drinks at once so he can stay clear of the kitchen for longer, where apparently Niall has decided to drink his weight in alcohol and calls out Louis' name loudly every time he enters.

And so it goes on for another hour or maybe more, Louis doesn't really keep track, until he's out on the balcony, sharing a cigarette with Zayn.

“You could just have your own, you know?” Zayn grumbles, somewhat annoyed when Louis smokes most the cigarette by himself.

“I don't smoke,” is Louis' quick reply and Zayn is still sober enough to shoot Louis an impressively unimpressed look. Louis rolls his eyes at Zayn for being momentarily cooler than him and finishes the cigarette to spite him. Zayn gives him half a smile.

“Want another?” he asks as he pushes himself off the railing him and Louis are leaning against. He holds up his bottle to accompany the question and Louis wrinkles his nose.

“Think I'm good,” he says, taking a deep breath. The cold and fresh air is getting to his head. Or maybe it's the alcohol, that would probably be a bit more logic, Louis concludes. When he blinks, Zayn is gone.

Fine.  _Whatever_ .

The next time Louis blinks Nick is stood beside him. Just great.

“You alright?” Nick asks, propping his arms onto the railing and leaning forward a bit. Louis is leaning with his back against the railing, watching his profile confusedly. Surely he doesn't look _that_ drunk. He's completely fine, really. 

When he tries to tell Nick that, his tongue gets twisted in his mouth and he fumbles over his words, only making incoherent sounds. Nick looks endlessly amused.

“Want me to get you a water, then?”

Louis takes a deep breath, thinking about what he's going to say long and hard before opening his mouth.

“Want you.. to fuck off,” he says then, the words all in proper order.

“No you don't,” Nick slowly, pushing off the railing and stepping on front of Louis' fitting their bodies together. Louis is sure he would protest against this, if he could think more clearly, but Nick is fitting his feet around Louis', reaching for his left hand, pulling it up. He holds Louis' wrist gently, letting his thumb trail over Louis' mark. This time Louis is prepared for the shock of pleasant tingling spreading through his entire body. He feels warm all the sudden and sinks into Nick's touch.

“I haven't been sleeping,” Nick tells him quietly, the noise from the party indoors somehow blocked out. “My mark's been fucking _killing_ me.”

Louis makes an affirmative noise in the back of throat. He can't speak properly, not only because he's drunk off his feet, but also because Nick is looming over him like this, covering him whole. He's short on breath, feels like his chest is going to explode with Nick's thumb still pressing softly onto Louis' mark, making his body go pliant against Nick.

“You should sleep at mine,” Nick says after a long pause, leaning even closer towards Louis. “Just sleep, so we can, you know.. _sleep,_ ” he says, laughing lowly. Louis has to tip his head back to look at Nick properly, trying to read his face. His squinting his eyes together, still trying to process what Nick last said, something about sleep or something? But his actions must be misleading, must get misinterpreted by Nick, because suddenly there are soft lips pressing against Louis' own.

It's a bit awkward, as first kisses always are, with Nick moving his lips against Louis' slowly and Louis only blinking at Nick for a few seconds, because what? With Nick's thumb softly pressing into Louis' mark it all makes a bit more sense, feels a bit like all those stories about the world stopping for a moment and turning the other way around. Louis kisses back for a while before,  _what?_

Louis pushes Nick back, forceful and sudden, looking at him wide eyes. Nick looks just as surprised, a little annoyed and a little amused at the same time.

“What is it now, darl-” Nick starts, but Louis interrupts him, pressing himself back against the railing as far as possible, bringing a full foot of space between them.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he all but shouts, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. Nick looks properly annoyed now, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“God, please don't start this again,” he says, letting out a long breath of air.

“Don't start _what_?” Louis snarls back, giving Nick the darkest look he has got.

Nick lets out a desperate little laugh, running both his hands down his face and then through his hair.

“This, Louis. _Us_. Like, I know I'm not the lottery win or anything but come on! Give me a chance here?” Nick says, sounding high pitched and a little desperate.

“You're not my soul mate,” Louis says matter of factly, feeling a lot more sober all the sudden.

“No, of course not,” Nick sighs. “Obviously it's just coincidence that we both got our marks at the same time with letters of each others name right after we touched. And of course it's just coincidence that our marks stop burning as soon as we're around each other.” He pauses for a moment, like he expects Louis to say something, but Louis keeps quiet. Doesn't quiet know what to say, because, well.. it _does_ sound like he and Nick are soul mates. Even though they're not, obviously.

“Just, go out with me sometime? Give me a chance? Think of it, you _might_ actually like me.”

“But,” Louis starts, deep frown appearing on his face. “You're not my soul mate. Why would I waste my time dati-”

“ _God_ ,” Nick groans loud and long, letting his head tip back into his neck. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asks towards the sky, his hands held up like he's blaming god himself for being stuck with Louis.

“Well, excuse you-” Louis starts, propping his hands onto his hips.

“No, you know what?” Nick interrupts, holding his hands up defensively. “I'm out of here. Karma is a bitch or so they say, so I really hope whatever I did was well worth getting stuck here with you. I'm done dealing with all your shit and your attitude, so just.. I'm _out_.” He bites the last part, huffing out angry breathes of air and giving Louis one last harsh look before stepping back inside to disappear in the sea of people, mingling inside.

 

~

 

“I think I made Nick angry,” Louis mutters quietly to Harry twenty minutes later. Harry is giving him a long confused look, which might also have to do with the fact that Louis followed him into the bathroom and has been blocking the toilet for five minutes, by sitting on top of the lid.

“What did you do then?” Harry asks, to play along in hopes that he might actually at some point of the night get to use the toilet in it's actual purpose rather than just a convenient sitting sport for Louis.

“Nothing,” Louis mumbles quietly.

“What did _he_ do then?”

“He kissed me,” Louis admits quietly, but Harry doesn't seem surprised at all.

“And then what did you do?”

“I told him I didn't want him to.”

“You told him you didn't want him to or you told him something ridiculous along the lines of ' _you're not even my soul mate_ '?”

“I sound nothing like that,” Louis says defensively, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Which one was it then?” Harry inquires on, raising an eyebrow expectantly. Louis' silence is all the answer he needs.

“Seriously, Lou, you shouldn't be this surprised. I don't know why he's putting up with your shit in the first place. I mean, I guess it's probably the whole soul mate thing, but you've been a right brat since the moment you met and he's still sticking around. I know I wouldn't have put up with you like this.”

“Neither does he,” Louis concludes, wrinkling his nose. “He left. Looks like I'm just not good enough for anybody, huh.”

“Stop it, Louis,” Harry scolds him harshly. “You're piss drunk at four in the morning, fishing for compliments in a bathroom. Sorry, if I don't take you seriously. But honestly, all you have to do is text Nick in the morning and say you're sorry. He'll come around. He might be stubborn, but hell, no one is as stubborn as you are, love,” Harry finishes softly, pulling Louis up into an embrace.

“Can we go home now?” Louis mumbles against Harry's chest, exhausting lacing through his voice.

“'Course, Lou. Lemme just piss real quick, yeah?”

 

~

 

Not ten minutes later Louis and Harry are stumbling into a taxi, Niall taking the front seat. Upon seeing Niall dance on the kitchen island, shirt pushed up his chest and ready to unbuckle his belt, Harry decided to call it a night on his friend's behalf as well.

Harry gives the taxi driver Niall's address first while Niall himself is asleep in his seat before even buckling up. Louis is is sat in the back next to Harry, keeping quiet as he runs his fingers over his mark. It's burning painfully already, which isn't fair. Usually after he had seen Nick Louis has had a pain free life for at least a couple of days and now it's not even been an hour and Louis feels ready to burst already.

“'s okay, boo,” Harry mumbles quietly next to him, taking Louis' wrist out of his own grip and gently blowing air over it. Louis gives him a surprised look, but let's his wrist rest in Harry's hold. Harry has never been this understanding before. Or maybe Louis is just overly drunk.

He falls asleep and startles awake several times during their short travel of dropping Niall off at his place and then heading home together. When they get home Harry pays the driver and drags Louis up the few stairs to their front door, down the hall way and into Louis' bed. He toes of his shoes and undresses himself slowly as Harry gets him a bottle of water and sets down a bucket next to his bed.

“'m not gonna puke,” Louis tells him and tries rolling his eyes, but it only makes him dizzy.

“Go to sleep, love,” Harry tells him softly, forcing two painkillers down Louis' throat and then turning off the lights and leaving Louis to go to sleep.

He sleeps restlessly or not at all most of the night, his wrist keeping him up. The mark is burning hot into his flesh, the tingling feeling reaching his fingertips and past his shoulder. Harry comes in a couple of times, when Louis doesn't stop tossing and turning in bed, muttering a few things that Louis doesn't quiet understand.

Sometime during the night his body's need to rest takes over and the next morning he doesn't remember the moment he fell asleep.

When he wakes up Louis' head hurts like hell, his entire body hurts like hell.  _Everything_ hurts.

Not everything though, his wrist does not and it startles Louis enough to sit up swiftly, blinking against the morning light in the room. His stomach turns and promptly he throws up into the bucket next to his bed.

Groaning he slides out from underneath the sheets, heaving his body towards the en suite and into the shower. He takes off his boxers and tosses them out of the shower before turning the water on, rinsing away the smell of smoke, alcohol and sweat along with the nasty feeling of vomiting.

After his shower, he promptly crawls back into bed, naked and his hair still dripping wet, but he doesn't care. He tries to sleep for some more, but the headache is keeping him awake. It might not even be from the hangover he's sporting, but stress-related instead, Louis thinks, not really daring to think about anything that happened the previous night.

As a result of actively trying not to think about it, Louis of course has to think about it and groans loudly, turning his face into the pillows. So Nick had been there and Louis had been a right prick. The usual so far, with the difference that for once Nick was actually fed up with Louis' behavior.  _Fuck_ .

Louis really kind of wants to talk to Harry about this, but he has a feeling he's only going to get yelled at for behaving like a fucking child. So he tries to act grown up about this. Soul mate or not Nick appears to have some magical healing powers concerning the burn in Louis' wrist, so it probably wouldn't be a bad idea to get back onto Nick's good side. Or onto his good side _at all._

He texts Harry  _'can i get nicks number_ ' and hears his phone chirp somewhere else in the flat. Louis really shouldn't feel as disappointed as he does when Harry simply texts him the number with no further comment on how maturely Louis is dealing with this a moment later.

He saves Nick's number and opens up a new message, staring at the blank screen for a long moment, focusing on the low buzzing feeling in his wrist.

' _so about last night_ ' he types, deleting it again immediately, frowning at the screen. ' _im sorry for_ ' he tries next but doesn't really know what to say, doesn't think 140 characters are quiet enough. In the end he decides on ' _we should probably talk_ ' and then hastily sends ' _this is louis btw_ ', just to be sure.

Louis lays in silence for a while, his hand clutched around his phone. He can hear the default Apple tone for incoming messages go off somewhere in the flat but ignores it, assuming it's Harry's phone. Turns out he shouldn't be assuming such things, when a short while later there's a knock on Louis' room door, tentative and quiet and not like Harry at all. It's a wonder in and of itself if Harry ever decides to knock and he certainly wouldn't do so if he already knew Louis was awake.

Louis is stunned into silence and only watches as the door opens slowly, Nick's head poking through the gap.

“Um,” Nick says slowly as he steps into Louis room, leaving the door slightly ajar as he takes another step into the room. Louis only blinks at him, unsure of what to say. What the fuck is Nick doing in his flat?

They stay quiet for a long moment, Louis sat up in his bed and Nick stood I the middle of the room, looking out of place.

“You have to say ' _What do you want?_ ', so I can start explaining myself,” Nick says after a long pause, giving Louis a small smile.

“Um, okay. What do you want?” he asks then, still feeling out of his depth. He doesn't sound snarky or playful but mostly just confused.

“Oh, you know, I was just in the area. Thought I'd stop by,” Nick says lightly, but the jokes falls flat with Louis' brain still working on minimum speed.

“Why are you here?” Louis wonders a moment later and Nick's face scrunches up.

“You texted me?”

“Yeah, but like.. that was two seconds ago.”

“Yeah,” Nick agrees tonelessly. “About that. I slept on your couch.”

“You slept on-?” Louis starts, interrupting himself. Nick slept on their couch? “You went home with us?” he inquires then, because Louis remembers pretty clearly going home with Harry and Niall and there was no Nick in sight. Louis is so sure, but then again there's a bucket full of last nights memories sitting next to the bed, so maybe Nick going home with them was lost somewhere in there.

“Um, no,” Nick laughs, scratching the back on his neck uncomfortably. “Harry kind of called me in the middle of the night, said you weren't sleeping because of your wrist, so you know. I wasn't sleeping anyway, 'nd I came over. Dozed off on your couch around six or so, I think.”

“Oh,” is all Louis' can say in reply, absentmindedly letting his fingers trail over his mark.

“Yeah,” Nick agrees somewhat tonelessly, wringing his own hands together. “Anyway, you wanted to talk?” he adds then, straight to the point.

“Um, yes,” Louis nods, pulling his knees towards his body and wrapping his arms around them. Nick takes the gestures as an invitation and sits down at the end of Louis' bed.

“I, eh. I probably have a few things to apologize for,” Louis starts carefully, looking anywhere but at Nick. “I, well.. I think I had really high expectations about meeting my soul mate? Harry always says I'm a hopeless romantic and well, meeting my so- meeting _you_ in a pub was kind of not what I had pictured? And it just kind of spiraled out of control from there on, it had nothing really to do with you, just, well, me being stubborn old me.” Louis gives him a sad little smile and a shrug, carefully looking up at Nick. Nick is looking back at him, attentively and curious, but not unfriendly.

“So, yeah. I'm not usually this stupid, but I can't promise it won't happen again, so whenever I get out of line just.. you know, knock my head back into place or something,” he finishes off lamely, but Nick chuckles. It's kind of amazing. Making Nick laugh might be just as amazing as riling him up.

“Okay,” Nick starts, nodding slowly. “I'll accept your apology, under one condition,” he says, meeting Louis' eyes.

“What is it?”

“I want you to say: Nick, I graciously accept the great gift God made me when making you my soul mate,” he says, grinning widely. Louis raises one eyebrows at him.

“Never in a million years.”

“Fine,” Nick agrees lightheartedly, chuckling on. “Let me take you out though, yeah?”

“If you must,” Louis huffs, trying to ignore the surge of happiness bolting through his body.

“I must,” Nick says, clapping his hands together. “And now scoot over, I wanna take a celebratory nap.”

“You're not getting in my bed,” Louis says defensively. “I'm not wearing any pants.”

“I'm your soul mate, I'll see your junk eventually. But if makes you feel any better, I'll keep my eyes tightly shut, alright darling?” Nick rambles on, obviously peeking through the fingers of the hand held in front of his face while using the other to lift up the corner of the blanket.

“Get away from me, pervert,” Louis calls chuckling, trying to kick out without letting the blanket slide of his legs. He can't help but laugh when Nick uses both his arms to fend of Louis' kicking legs, trying to pin them to the bed.

“You're a nuisance,” Nick complains laughingly just before Louis kicks him in the side. _Hard_.

“Oops,” Louis giggles as Nick doubles over in pain, groaning loudly. For a moment Louis stops the kicking, bending forward towards Nick.

“Hey, are you okay?” he inquires, when Nick just keeps groaning. Half a second later Nick jumps at him, pushing him back down onto the bed with a wide grin on his face.

“Gotcha,” he says, laughing some more when Louis tries to struggle against Nick's hold.

“You asshole!” Louis complains, shifting underneath Nick's heavy body in vain. “I thought I hurt you. Bloody well should have. Jeez, you're heavy.”

“ _Heavy_ , you say?” Nick inquires with a grin before sagging completely onto Louis body, going pliant and pressing him into the mattress.

“ _Get_ _up_ , you giant oaf!” Louis grunts, pushing at Nick's shoulders with exactly zero effect.

“Never in a million years,” Nick replies hotly into Louis' neck, and yeah Louis probably had that one coming.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You like?  
> You comment! You kodus!
> 
> Find me on tumblr --> hannahazza.tumblr.com


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